Not Quite Paradise
by wdbydoglvr
Summary: Vegas isn't called Sin City for nothing. One man learns a lesson in Greed, while a teenage boy is left to deal with the consequences of another's actions. With the team back together again, these cases should be cake, right?
1. Once Again

**Title-** Not Quite Paradise

**Rating: T-** Nothing worse than you see on the show, so I'm leaving it the same rating.

**Summary- **Vegas isn't called Sin City for nothing. One man learns a lesson in Greed, while a teenage boy is left to deal with the consequences of another's actions. With the team back together again, these cases should be cake, right?

**Pairing- **There may be some implied flirting, but none of it will affect the central plot.

**A/N- **With this fic, I'm going to try and make it similar to a show, but with more character interaction. I'm going to try and have the forensic aspect in there, but I'm no scientist, so I may be wrong with some of it. And some of it is unlikely, but I'm making it happen, 'cause it's my story (example, the team's back together. My excuse, Ecklie wants to save money). Okay, so maybe it isn't a lot like the show, but it's been constantly bouncing around my brain for two months, and I finally got it down on paper (or keyboard...)

**Disclaimer-** I don't own CSI:. If I did, would I be writing a fic? No, I would be writing episodes. My characters will show up eventually, but for now, enjoy my portrayal of the original characters. I apologize in advance.

* * *

_**Once Again**_

It was just another quiet night. Or at least, as quiet as it ever got in Vegas. At MGM, young voices were coming from the lion habitat, gasps and squeals, little fingers pointing at huge paws through the thick glass. In the casino, among the bells and whistles of the slot machines, there were happy screeches and angry shouts as some people earned enough to stay another week in Vegas, and others were lucky they had bought round trip tickets. But upstairs, a young man could only hope he would be lucky enough to get away.

"I can get it back, I promise! Just give me another chance, by this time tomorrow-" His voice was trembling, and although he was speaking rather louder than he usually did, the sound-proofed walls gave him no hope of being found. Across the room, someone stood in the shadows with their back turned, the only other person in the room, but the young man didn't dare run. There were eyes all over Vegas. They would find him.

"You've already had enough chances. I've told you, you do not spend money that is not yours." There was a menacing click from in front of the shadowy figure, and the young man gulped. He could still run, it wasn't to late… No, it's been too late to escape ever since they met…

The person turned, stepping out of the shadows, and the young man found himself staring down a silver barrel. There was a loud, slightly muffled noise, and before the young man could even open his mouth to scream, he hit the floor.

* * *

A few hours later, in the break room of the Las Vegas crime lab, the graveyard and swing shifts were awaiting Gil Grissom, who would be handing out assignments, and anticipating their first night as one team in quite some time. The number of cases had recently been dropping, so in order to avoid paying people to do much less work than usual, Conrad Ecklie had decided that swing and grave could work together again, however brief the time. 

Standing near the coffee maker, Nick Stokes, who swapped over from swing for the time being, and Greg Sanders were talking about a new video game that had just hit the shelves (and they had both bought the day it was out) and preparing for the shift. Nick was yawning, and leaning against the counter, while Greg was grinning. He was lucky enough to not have to worry about changing shifts. The one good thing about being the newest CSI was if they needed backup on another shift, they'd go for the more experienced criminalists, rather than the new ones.

"The Falcons are still the best team in the game, doesn't matter which version you play," Greg said, grabbing his coffeepot off the heater and pouring some into a small cup. Nick reached out to take the coffeepot, but Greg pulled it away, handing him a different one. "That's my coffee, unless you want to pay for it, of course…"

"Don't you remember what Grissom said about this stuff? Community water, community coffee. Now gimmee, I need caffeine." Greg sighed and moved his hand, allowing Nick to take the coffeepot that contained Greg's Blue Hawaiian. Almost everyone in the nightshift had tried the coffee without Greg's knowledge, with the exception of David Hodges, who, although he almost stopped making obnoxious (and sometimes true) comments about Greg, still wouldn't touch anything that Greg liked. Hodges did still spend most of his time trying (and failing) to impress his superiors, something that annoyed his coworkers out of their wits. But he was slowly getting better, and the lab needed a Trace Technician, so they could put up with him. Nick poured the coffee into another cup, and set the coffeepot back on the heater.

"Come on man, you know Moss is good." Nick took a sip from his coffee, and grinned. "So is this stuff, where do you get it? You don't exactly see it in the supermarkets…"

"If I told you, would you leave my stuff alone?" Nick didn't respond, except to take another sip from the coffee. "It'll stay my secret then, won't it? Anyway, yeah, Moss is good, but that's only one player, the Falcon's have a whole team…"

Over on the couches, two more members of swing were deep in conversation. Catherine Willows, the supervisor of swing shift, was working as a Level Three for the first time in nearly a year. Grissom would be the supervisor, as it was his shift in the first place, and he had over four years more experience with the job than she did. Sitting across from her was Warrick Brown, who seemed happy about the team being back together. They were talking about a new source of stress in Catherine's life, known to her only as Jason.

"And she's coming home an hour past her curfew…I don't know if she's mad at me, or she misses her dad, or…" Catherine was leaned back on the couch, massaging her forehead and sighing at random points in the conversation.

"Cath, don't worry about it, kids'll be kids. She's getting to that age where she's trying to be independent, prove that she doesn't need help from her mom." Warrick, who was always ready to help when it came to Catherine's daughter, Lindsay, was looking around the break room. "You know, I remember when you were in here yelling at Gris and Nick 'cause they were trying to throw Linds a party for her seventh birthday. It's weird, she would come to the lab and we would send her to work with Sanders, and now she's getting to be one of those… I dunno, teenage girls that I feared when I was her age…" He looked back at Catherine, smiling. "Like mother, like daughter, right?" Catherine responded to this with a shadow of a smile, but went on talking as if she didn't hear the last comment.

"I remember one night she came home… She was humming a song I know I never let her listen too… Then I walk into the DNA lab the next day and see Greg playing his tumblers with a latex glove on his head to the same song…" Catherine sighed and shook her head. "Now my baby girl is spending all her time with a bunch of kids who I know nothing about… What happened to the little girl who was in every play she got the chance to be in, and actually looked forward to going to school?"

"Don't worry so much, it'll be fine. Besides, if anyone tries to mess with her, she's got connections, right?" Warrick grinned at Catherine, who smiled feebly back. It was a few minutes before either of them spoke again, when Catherine laughed quietly, looking back up at Warrick.

"You know, for a guy who's never been married, you know a lot about kids," Catherine smiled at Warrick, who simply shrugged.

"My grandma taught me a lot when I was a kid." Warrick smiled again, looking down towards the floor. "I never saw a point to it, but I guess without her, I'd still be a runner… Or worse…" He sighed, before glancing at Catherine out of the corner of his eyes. "But I do know someone who seems proud of her past, even if it isn't exactly a normal… Profession." He smiled, and Catherine shook her head at him.

"Hey, it was a job, and it supported Eddie and me…" She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder, winking at him. "And I was good at it, too."

Over at the table, the pair was much quieter. On one side of the table, with her nose in a forensic science magazine, sat Sophia Curtis, who was new to both shifts, at least, compared to the others. When the shift change first happened, she moved from acting supervisor of the dayshift, to a Level Three CSI of the nightshift. At first, she wasn't exactly happy with the change, but she had decided that Gil was a much better supervisor than Conrad could ever be. Although he wasn't best with the political part of his job, Gil knew that CSI's are still human, something that Conrad never seemed to realize. She was still upset that she had been passed over for a position, but for now, she would work with Gil. And when she did become a supervisor, she could use what she learned working with him, and be an even better supervisor than she would've been if she had gotten Willows' position.

Across the table was Sara Sidle, who was tapping her pen on the table and looking at one of Grissom's crossword puzzles. Normally, they didn't interest her, but she had no interest in football video games, and besides only speaking with Lindsay Willows two or three times, she knew next to nothing about kids. And with a choice between working on a crossword puzzle and talking to Sophia, she would take the puzzle. She scribbled in another word before hearing the break room door open and people making themselves heard all over the room.

"Finally, took you long enough!" Warrick's voice made itself around the room, followed shortly by Catherine, who was trying to sound hurt, but wasn't able to hide the laughter in her voice.

"Oh, so you don't enjoy talking with me?" Sara looked up in time to see Grissom standing in the break room doorway with a folder in hand, looking amused. Then she looked over at Catherine, who was grinning at Warrick, who rolled his eyes and looked back.

"Come on, Cat, you know what I mean…" But Warrick was quickly cut off by Greg, who was much better than Catherine at sounding angry, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was joking.

"How come he gets to call you Cat and I don't?" Before anyone else could say anything, Grissom cleared his throat, causing the room to go silent. Everyone looked at him as he made his way to the table and sat down. He opened the folder and pulled out a few sheets of paper with the reported crimes that the team would be working on this shift.

"We've got a 419 at off I-15 just outside of town, and from the sounds of it, it's a dump site, not a primary scene. Next, a B and E gone bad at Summerland. Two fatalities, one more victim on the way to the ICU at Desert Palm." He set the pages on the table and looked around at the team. "So… I'm thinking Greg, Sara, and Catherine will take the 419 off I-15, and Warrick, Sophia and Nick will come with me to Summerland. Any objections?" He glanced around at everyone. Some were shaking their heads in response, and others were getting ready to leave. Grissom glanced at Greg, whom he had expected some sort of response from. Greg had been flirting with nearly every woman he came in contact with, and was now working a case with the two who got the worst of it, and he didn't say a word about it. Greg was either acting much more mature than he did in his days as a lab tech, or he hadn't yet noticed who Grissom had paired him with. Grissom sighed, and took the slip with the I-15 case's information and handed it to Catherine, who took it and scanned it over. He pulled the second one out, and handed it to Sophia, so she could take a look.

Everyone started filling out of the lab and into the hallway, heading for the parking lot so they could head to their respective crime scenes. He looked around the break room, at Nick and Warrick were playing Paper, Rock, Scissors to see who would drive, then at Sophia, who had looked up from the case information, and was looking at the pair of them with raised eyebrows. Behind the fully-grown men playing schoolyard games, Catherine was talking quietly to Greg.

"So, I hear someone has improved in the field since the, uh… First final proficiency." Catherine smiled at Greg as he walked past Nick and Warrick, who on the final round. Greg was saved from answering as Nick shouted next to him.

"Ha! Paper! I win!" Everyone stopped and looked at the Texan, who quickly cleared his throat. "I'm driving." He grabbed the keys from Warrick's hand and quickly made his way out the door, shortly followed by Warrick, who was shaking his head, and Sophia, who looked shocked that anyone could act like that. Catherine followed shortly after, pursing her lips as if trying not to smile, then Sara and Greg, who were both laughing quietly. Grissom smiled, walking out the door himself, heading for his office to drop off the case folder in his office before heading to the parking lot with the others. It seemed, for once, Conrad Ecklie had done something right.


	2. Rhetorical Questions

**Warnings- **Sorry, I forgot this last chapter… Erm… There will be slight spoilers, but only mentioned in passing. Little things like Nick and Greg's football teams, or Catherine's past profession. And it's sort of… Bloody. I'm not going into huge detail so if it bothers anyone, they won't have an entire paragraph of gory descriptions (but CSI fans may be used to it by now, since the show is pretty bloody…) Anyway, I figured some people would want a heads up.

**A/N- **Okay, so I don't know much about O'Riley, and he may be out of character. I can remember his name faster than I can remember the other detectives. So there. And also, I have a hard time with descriptions of characters we know without going… Overboard, I guess you could say. If anyone needs more of a description, the characters will be showing up throughout the story, so I can try and work on my descriptions. Let me know in a review! And also, if anyone can recall what the body temp is on average, I would be very appreciative, 'cause I only know the post-mortem temp drop. I estimated...

**Disclaimer-** If it was my show, Ecklie'd be on a silver slab, Brass could have his job, 'cause if Grissom was assistant lab director, Sophia would be head of night shift, and the show would be catfight central (Sophia vs. Catherine), although some people may like that… If you know 'em, they're not mine, but if you don't they're mine. 'Course, none of my characters will do much talking 'til next chapter...

* * *

_**Rhetorical Questions**_

Standing on the front porch of a large, expensive looking house in Summerland, Captain Jim Brass looked out over the heads of many curious neighbors to see a large, dark SUV park across the street. The front passenger door opened first, and Grissom stepped out of the car, and headed for the rear hatch. The back door of the car popped open and as Grissom pushed up the hatch, the back right passenger door opened, Sophia got out of the car, her blonde hair pulled back out of her face. The two reached into the back of the SUV to grab their processing kits, and when they emerged from behind the large vehicle, they were followed by Nick and Warrick, who also had their processing kits in hand.

The foursome fought their way through the crowd of neighbors and a few news reporters who were pressing up against the yellow tape that had been wrapped around the property. They ducked under the tape, and met Brass halfway up the driveway. As they reached him, Brass turned around and headed back for the house, Grissom falling into step next to him.

"Expensive cars in the driveways, houses big enough to comfortably fit indoor swimming pools… You know, this '_It's a safe neighborhood_" crap is starting to get old." Brass sighed as he reached the doorway, and waited for the CSI's to put covers over their shoes so they didn't get their footprints all over the crime scene. As they walked into the house, Brass nodded to the officer who let them in. "What's the point of these fancy alarm systems if no one's going to use them?" Grissom shook his head as Brass turned to face the criminalists.

"You're asking the wrong man, Jim. I interpret evidence, not people's actions." Grissom walked past Brass, pulling out his flashlight and turning it on, scanning the foyer and into the spacious living room. The others followed in Grissom's lead, and as Nick walked past the captain, he heard him mutter, "It was a rhetorical question…"

Once inside the house, Grissom started speaking to the team, giving them instructions while playing most of his attention to the crime scene.

"Nick, I want you to bag and tag anything probative. Take pictures, don't miss anything." Grissom turned his flashlight to the widescreen television that stood in front of the large, comfortable looking couch. He walked over to it quickly, turning his flashlight on the top. There were two large voids in the dust. "Take pictures of these voids, it looks like our suspect has some new electronic equipment." Then Grissom turned to the others, as Nick opened up his kit and pulled out a camera, evidence markers, and a pair of gloves. "Warrick, I need you to go to the hospital and process the third victim." Warrick leaned his head back, sighing. He turned around and made his way back outside. In the doorway, Warrick stopped and turned around, facing Nick.

"Hey Nick, keys." He held out his hand as Nick stuck his hand in the pocket of his jeans, and pulled out the keys to the crime lab's SUV. As he threw the keys, Nick grinned at Warrick.

"Big case to be getting off scene work, don'cha think?" Warrick threw Nick a sarcastic grin as he caught the keys and walked back outside, heading for the car. Grissom turned to Sophia, apparently oblivious to what Nick and Warrick were saying.

"I want you to work the perimeter. Where our suspect came in, where he got out, how he got here, anything you can find out about him." Sophia nodded and followed Warrick outside, but without waiting to see where she went, Grissom turned to Brass.

"Now, I need to see the bodies, and where the ICU vic was found, so David can get them out of here." Grissom looked around the entryway, as if expecting to see the body there. "The report said the first was found in the kitchen, right?" Without waiting for an answer, Grissom continued. "Where is that, exactly?"

"You know, I used to have your job, I know what needs to be done. Anyway, kitchen. That'd be down this way," Brass said, turning down the short hallway on the right. They passed two doors, and a hallway that twisted left, and found themselves in the kitchen.

At first glance, you could tell this was a rich family. There were elaborate decorations over the shelves with matching wallpaper on the walls, and if you looked close enough, you could see the dark red spots of blood spatter. High-end appliances stood around them, whirring softly, some of them held signs of blood spatter as well. In the center of the kitchen was an island counter with a marbled top. Above it, a rack hung from the ceiling holding what looked like the types of pots and pans you would see in a professional restaurant. Grissom gave Brass a questioning look, and he pointed over the counter. Grissom stepped around the center island, and saw the body of a middle-aged man with cropped, dark hair that was graying slightly, and dark eyes that remained open. There was a large wound in the victim's chest, and from the looks of it, the guy had bled out, because his pajamas were soaked, and he was laying in a pool of his own blood. As Grissom went to retrieve his camera in order to take pictures of the body so the coroner could remove it, Brass cleared his throat.

"Marshall Winston, 46, lawyer. Apparently getting himself a late night snack at the time of the attack. Paramedics pronounced half hour ago, cleared by the coroner." Brass sighed and stood back, allowing Grissom to spend a few minutes taking pictures of the body from various angles. As soon as Grissom was satisfied with the amount of pictures he had of the body, he searched the body for any trace evidence that could be lost during transport. Once he had finished, Brass went outside to call David in, who arrived a few minutes later, carefully pushing a gurney and followed by a few others who would help take the body to the van. He smiled weakly at Brass and Grissom, nodding to each of them in turn.

"Detective, Sir." David knelt down next to the body to check the liver temperature, even through there was already an approximate time of death and Grissom smiled slightly. No matter how many times Grissom told him not to, David always called him Sir. It could possibly be because David grew up with a father in the military, and was most likely taught about respect at an early age. There was a small beep and David removed the thermometer.

"96.6 degrees, he's been dead close to an hour." David turned back to the body, and with the help of a few of the coroner's assistants, got the body ready for transport. Grissom turned to Brass.

"Gunshots heard about 10:45, right?" Brass nodded.

"Yeah, it confirms our eyewitnesses story. But what I don't get is why someone would be here this early, if it was a robbery." He glanced at the sheet of paper that held the victim's information. "There's a fifteen year old living here, and even on a Thursday, what are the chances that he would be asleep at this hour?"

Grissom shook his head, cases were never straightforward like they seemed in the beginning. From the looks of things, this was murder, andthe missing items were taken to make it look like robbery.

* * *

Miles away, Catherine was climbing out of the driver's seat at the second crime scene. She collected her kit and walked over to Detective Ray O'Riley, who was standing just outside the yellow tape, Greg and Sara not far behind her. As they reached O'Riley, he glanced over at a police car with an officer, and a man who looked to be in his mid thirties standing next to it. A small boy that couldn't be much older than five was covered in a blanket, sitting on the car's hood, and leaning up against the man standing with the officer. 

"Mom and Dad are divorced, Dad has the kid on weekends. They were heading for Dad's home in Barstow," O'Riley looked at the little boy sympathetically. "The poor kid's still shaking. No rest stops for a while either direction and the little guy had to go. Found the body, and according to Dad, started screaming bloody murder. Not that I blame him, though…" O'Riley sighed and shook his head. "Body's over here."

They ducked under the tape and walked through the tall grass until they came to the body. When they did, it became perfectly clear why the little boy had screamed.

The man was on his back, wearing only boxers, his face no longer looked human. There was a large hole in the forehead, and the rest of the face was covered in black residue, burns, and blood. Catherine looked over towards the boy and his father as Greg and Sara inched closer to the body.

"No blood spatter, lividity is inconsistent with the body's position. Grissom was right, this looks like a dump site." Sara shined her flashlight near the ground around the body, looking for footprints. "If you're coming all the way out here, why not take the time to bury the body?" Greg was shining a flashlight down at the body's entrance wound.

"Looks like this guy was shot at close range." He looked up at O'Riley. "We're waiting on the coroner, right?" O'Riley laughed.

"He looks dead enough to me…" He sighed and glanced towards the highway, which was deserted except for the black SUV that Catherine, Greg, and Sara had arrived in, and a green mini-van belonging to the little boy's father. "But no, we're still waiting on the coroner…" O'Riley shook his head, wondering what was taking the coroner so long. If there weren't many cases, they didn't have many bodies to process. Catherine looked back at the body with a sigh.

"Has anyone talked to the little boy yet?" When O'Riley shook his head again, Catherine looked at Greg and Sara. She wasn't a supervisor for this shift, but she had seniority. "The body hasn't been cleared yet, so we're hands off. Sara, I want you to process around the body, try to find shoeprints, a weapon maybe, anything that may have been left behind, take some pictures of the body. Greg, you take the highway, see if you can find any usable treads." Greg nodded with a mock salute.

"Yes, oh supervising one." He turned and followed his own footprints out of the yellow tape, and towards the road. Sara, on the other hand, stood up, turning off her flashlight, and looking at Catherine, who was staring after Greg with raised eyebrows.

"Nice to see he's still capable of being himself. I'd been hearing that ever since the Matthews case in March, he's been kind of…" She trailed off, looking at Sara. True, he had been acting more serious now than when he first joined the lab, but it had only become more obvious since March. Ever since the lab explosion over two years ago, the music had quieted to a point that it no longer shook the glass, and strange head ornaments had stopped altogether. But Catherine had never excepted that the lab explosion could've caused that change, primarily because she had been the one who caused the explosion. After allowing Catherine a few seconds, Sara spoke up, pulling the blonde CSI away from her thoughts.

"Yeah, he's perfectly capable of goofing off, just not around the lab. I s'pose if anyone found out he was acting the way he usually does in the field, Ecklie'd be all over him. As long as the work is getting done, it won't hurt anyone." Sara glanced over at the officer's car, where the little boy was sleeping. "You're gonna get a statement from that little boy, aren't you?" Catherine sighed and nodded.

"I hate having to wake him up this late to make him remember something he's probably trying to forget, but we need to talk to him now, while it's fresh on his mind." Catherine watched as the little boy fidgeted in his sleep. If that had been Lindsay and Eddie, Catherine knew her late ex-husband would've been livid if anyone woke up his little girl to talk to her about something like this. But Catherine knew that it was important to talk to the boy now, because bringing it up again in a day or so would be even harder on him. Catherine turned back to face Sara.

"Besides, I doubt going to the Vegas PD was on Dad's to-do list for the weekend," Catherine sighed, causing Sara to laugh wryly. Catherine ducked the tape and headed for the car, hoping that this little boy wasn't too traumatized to talk about what he found. With half a glance back at the body, Catherine shook her head. After seeing that, she couldn't blame the poor kid.


	3. Keep 'Em Busy

**Warnings-** Just OOC-ness, most likely on Greg's part. It was mentioned once that he had Lindsay in the lab with him, and I'm using his old Greg-ness (that seems to be dying cries) because… Well, I'll just say that although this would never happen, it's kinda just wishful thinking, and since it's a fanfic, I can do that. Sorta. 

**A/N- **Okay… It's only been six months since I updated this… Although it wasn't for lack of trying, just a lack of inspiration. Although I did have this written by the end of June, I wasn't completely satisfied with it, and I didn't have time to go over it for a while, and then I forgot… But I want to try and get more of it done, so this'll do. And I also really want to thank **tenofswords **for reminding me of my long lost attempt, as well as everyone else who has reviewed. I love getting them, even though sometimes I don't exactly deserve them… cough Anyway, keep in mind this was written before the sixth season started. I'll try and fix up everything possible in my next chapter, but some things will have to stay screwed up… Now I will stop rambling and get to the story!

**Disclaimer- **In a world where I own CSI: frogs would have wings so they didn't hit their rears on the ground when they hopped. And I even heard that from someone else. Other things I don't own include- The Lion King, Band-Aid, Eggo Waffles, and as I mentioned earlier, the MGM Hotel. No suing please.

* * *

The lights that had been set up around the crime scene flickered on, the bright lights shining on the scene, allowing Sara to begin processing. Catherine and ducked under the tape and began making her way to the officer's car to speak to the little boy who found the body and his father. She nodded at the officer as she approached, and pulled out her ID, showing it to the boy's father. 

"I'm Catherine Willows, with the Las Vegas crime lab. You are…?" The man had short brown hair and dark eyes, which currently had bags under them, an obvious sign of lack of sleep. It was close to midnight, though, and Catherine knew, from experience, as a parent you worked long hours, no matter what day of the week. The man extended a large hand, which she shook.

"Joe Sharton," He drew back his hand as soon as Catherine let go and rubbed his face. "This officer told me we could leave as soon as someone from the crime lab released us. Can I take my son home yet? He's refusing to go anywhere near the body, and he doesn't want to go inside the patrol car… He's barely five years old, he needs to go home and sleep." The boy whimpered in his sleep, tightening his grip on his father's arm. Catherine glanced backwards, and noticed that there was a green mini-van under one of the highway lights. She sighed and looked Mr. Sharton in the eye, even though he was nearly half a foot taller than she was.

"Sir, I understand that. I've got a child myself," She stopped and thought of Lindsay, who was spending another night at a friend's house. Catherine forced the guilt out of her head. She could be guilty back at the lab, but now, she needed to put her full energy on the case. And besides, it was a long weekend, Lindsay didn't have school tomorrow, so she and her friend were probably still up, talking about boys and other stuff she used to talk to Catherine about. "But I need to talk to you and your son about what he found, if you may have touched anything…"

"He was terrified, why would he go anywhere near that body?" Joe's voice was raising, and the little boy stirred again. "Besides, he's sleeping, can't it wait?"

"It could, but then he would need to remember it again later. It would be best just to get it over now." Catherine spoke in a firm voice, yet seeing a sleeping child, although he would be waking up any minute, made her speak quietly unconsciously. After a few seconds, Joe sighed, and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, shaking him softly.

"Greggie. Come on, buddy, you need to wake up…" Catherine smiled at the child's name, glancing at the road, where Greg was doing as sweep, looking for the treads she had asked him to find. When she looked back at the little boy, she saw a pair of big, blue eyes starring at her blearily. "Ms. Willows here is going to ask you some questions, Greggie." The little Greg blinked up at his father, and back at Catherine, who smiled.

"Is your name Greg?" She leaned down, so she was closer to eye level with the boy. He nodded, inching behind his father slightly.

"Greg William Sharton." The boy's voice was very quiet, showing that he was still partially asleep.

"That's a very cool name, Greggie. You know, my friend's name is Greg too. He's right over there." She rose her finger and pointed to the highway where Greg was working. With adults, beating around the bush was the last thing you wanted to do, but with a child, especially a young one, trying to gain their trust before asking them questions that could bother them was essential. The little Greg's head stuck out from behind his father in the direction she was pointing. His curly, blonde hair caught the moonlight as he leaned out from behind his father, looking after Catherine's finger.

"What's your friend Greg doing?" Greggie's voice was still very quiet as he shrunk back behind his father's arm. She smiled, forgetting how she had promised herself to keep her mind on the case. Although he still seemed rather shaken (although after seeing that, who could blame him?) and very tired, he seemed to be waking up quickly enough.

"How 'bout I ask you a few questions first. That way you can go home faster, and get some sleep. I bet you've got a really fun weekend planned with Dad, don't you?" Catherine quickly dodged the boy's question. Even if she could talk about an open case to a witness, the poor kid shouldn't have to know about murder, at least not yet. He shouldn't know any more than what he already did, and a child his age shouldn't even know what a wound a Band-Aid couldn't fix looks like. But he was a witness, so someone had to talk to him.

The little Greg sat up a little straighter, and he nodded, a shadow of a smile on his little face. "We're gonna go to the zoo so I can see the aminals. Only one time I saw the big 'Simbas' at the green hotel, and they were so big! I bet they could eat a whole apple with one bite!" The little boy opened his mouth and snapped it shut, and Catherine smiled. Greggie reminded her of the first time she had taken Lindsay to the MGM hotel, back when they had first seen the Lion King. Apparently the movie had survived longer than she had expected it to.

"So, before we got here, did you see anyone else around?" Catherine glanced at Mr. Sharton, asking him as well. Greggie shook his head, while his dad shrugged.

"Well, I saw a few cars heading back towards the city, and a tour bus, but I didn't pay much attention. I wasn't exactly expecting to find…" He glanced over at the area where the body was, before looking back at Catherine. She nodded, and he continued. "Cars on a road don't exactly stand out, you know?" Catherine nodded.

"You never know what's coming, really, do you?" She turned back to Greggie, trying to think of how to say this as gently as possible.

"Now, when you found the man in the bushes…" The little boy's hand immediately flew into his father's, who was watching the pair of them. Little Greg looked up at his father, who nodded encouragingly, squeezing his son's hand. "…Did you touch anything?" The boy shook his head violently.

"I wasn't scared. I just… He looked like he was in trouble, so I called my daddy." Greggie's eyes were wide, and Catherine could tell that he wouldn't have touched anything, but questioning was part of the job, even if the answer was obvious.

"And were was your daddy?" The hand that wasn't clamped around adult fingers pointed a little further down, on the other side of the crime scene. Catherine nodded with a smile at the little boy, who was looking at her nervously. She opened her kit, and set down two large pieces of paper on the hood of the car.

"Good job, Greggie, your doing good so far. Now, this is the fun part. You get to stand on the car!" Catherine spoke like this was the coolest thing in the world, and Greggie seemed to agree. Mr. Sharton shot her a frightened look, and she smiled reassuringly back. "I need to find out what your footprints look like, so you are going to stand on this paper for me." She put a hand on one of the sheets, and Greggie started to raise his foot. "Hold on a second, I need to get my special shoe ink, okay? Of course, if it's okay with you dad that we put ink on your shoes…" Catherine looked at Joe, muttering under her breath. "We just need to know which prints are yours and which are your son's so we can exclude those sets and find the suspect's." Greggie looked at his dad with pleading eyes as Joe's expression cleared, and he nodded. With a large, toothy grin (that revealed a missing baby tooth), Greggie quickly stood up as Catherine bent down to retrieve the black ink and roller from the kit.

"Okay, now I want you to hold on to you dad, okay Greggie?" The little boy nodded, and grabbed onto his father's lower arm with one hand. Catherine opened the ink canister and set it on the hood of the car, and put her hand on Greggie's right leg. "Hang on to your dad, and lift up this foot, okay?" The small foot rose itself as Catherine inked the roller. She held onto his foot and looked at his small, Power Rangers themed tennis shoes, rolling the ink on the bottom. "I like your shoes, kiddo." Greggie smiled and his foot squirmed a little in Catherine's hand. "Now, step with that foot onto the paper." Greggie did so, and Catherine quickly followed with the other foot.

"You did a very good job, Greggie." Putting the prints aside as Greggie plopped back down on the car, and Catherine glanced over at the road. Greg was heading back to the car with a few bags. Hoping she could get him to watch the little boy for a few minutes while she talked to his dad, Catherine turned back to the car. "Now, how would you like to meet my friend?" Catherine held out her hand to help Greggie slide off the car, and he did so, reaching up to grab his father with his other hand.

Of course, Catherine doubted Greg was completely done, but she knew the officer on the scene enough to remember he didn't like kids much, and she knew Sara wasn't the biggest fan of small children, either. And she didn't want the poor kid to be listening in while Catherine spoke to his father. And besides, once or twice Greg had been stuck with Lindsay, and he even managed to get her to help out in the lab. At least, as much as an eight-year-old can without contaminating evidence. As Greggie to pulled the adults along behind him, Catherine spoke quietly over his head to his father.

"I still need to speak with you, and get your footprints. I need to have a hard surface, though, which is why we're using the highway." Soon, they were at the highway's edge, and Greggie had dropped Catherine's hand, and was shrinking back behind his father.

"Greg!" She shouted over at the crime lab's SUV, but Greg didn't look up, apparently not hearing her. She tried again, raising her voice slightly, and waving her arm to get his attention. "GREG!" This time he looked up, shutting the car door and heading over. Inside the tape, she could hear Sara laughing as she processed. Greg noticed Joe standing behind Catherine, but Greggie was lost behind his father's large silhouette. He gave Catherine a questioning look, and she waved him closer.

"Give me a second to respond before you start screaming my name for the world to hear. I know you missed me, but…" Catherine laughed, and as soon as Greg was close enough to hear her without allowing the others to, she spoke quietly, patting his shoulder.

"Not gonna happen, kid." Greg shot her a falsely hurt look, and she smiled back, before speaking up again. "Greg, this little guy was very helpful when I spoke to him, and he wanted a word with you." She saw Greg glance up at Mr. Sharton, who, although he wasn't huge, was by no means little. He opened his mouth to say something when he saw Greggie step out from behind his father. Catherine smiled at the little boy, who was looking nervously at Greg. "Tell him you name, kiddo."

"My name is Greg William Sharton!" Greggie recited, trying to make himself look taller by standing on his toes. Greg gave Catherine a look, and mouthed the words _I need to talk to 'Dad'_, and Greg nodded, crouching down so he was closer to head level to the boy.

"Greg Hojem Sanders. Very nice to meet you little man." Greg smiled as Greggie giggled at his name.

"That's a funny middle name, Mr. Sanders." Behind him, Mr. Sharton opened his mouth to say something, possibly to tell Greggie off, but Greg shook his head.

"I've always thought so too. And Mr. Sanders is my dad, you don't need to call me that. Just Greg, 'kay?" The little boy nodded.

"Okay, Mr. Greg." Catherine smiled, and Mr. Sharton shook his head, and spoke quietly.

"I told my ex-wife not to send him to that expensive pre-school. Manners are nice, but everyone's a mister or missus. Took me a while to get him to stop saying Mr. Daddy." Catherine smiled and shrugged.

"We all want what's best for our kids, although not everyone has the same view of what's the best and what's to much." The guilt of leaving Lindsay home returned again, but Catherine shook it off, swearing to take her out for ice cream after school, if she wasn't too cool to be seen with her mom... With a sigh, she turned to the two Greg's, who were talking about the little boy's shoes.

"We'll be back soon, guys. Play nice, Greggo." Catherine started to turn away, but stopped at Greggie's next words.

"Greggo? Isn't that a waffle?" Catherine laughed, and with a glance at her face, Greg started laughing too. In truth, the name probably did come from the waffles, because it was Nick who started it with '_Leggo my Greggo!_' and escalated from there. And since Nick was the Crime Lab's resident TV expert, or at least the only one who bothered to get some expensive cable package, he probably got it from an Eggo Waffle commercial. Greg explained this to the little boy, who grinned.

"Okie-dokie, Waffle Man!" Greggie broke off into a fit of laughter, and behind the boy, Catherine chuckled slightly at the confused smile on Greg's face. Mr. Sharton smiled apologetically, and Greg shrugged. After working for years with Nick and Warrick, he was almost surprised he hadn't heard that one yet.

Catherine gestured to Mr. Sharton to follow her, but before they got very far, she heard Greg muttering in her direction.

"Great. I've graduated from Lab Rat to Waffle Man." Greg shook his head, looking up at Catherine from his kneeling position. "I'm not paid to babysit, you know." She patted his head. His hand quickly went up to protect his hair, and she laughed.

"I'll make it up to you." Greg gave her a grin, and she rolled her eyes. "As soon as these two are back on the road, I'll help you finish processing the highway."

With that, Catherine turned and walked away with Mr. Sharton right behind her, leaving the two Greg's behind. She heard the sound of Greg opening his kit, and starting to go through it to find something to show Greggie. Catherine stopped about ten feet away, far enough away that she could speak to Mr. Sharton where Greggie wouldn't hear. After taking Mr. Sharton's footprints, she heard laughter from the little boy, and glanced over to see Greg wearing his UV glasses, and doing some sort of dance, with Greggie next to him, wearing what looked like an extra latex glove on his head.

Yup, the best way to occupy a kid- let him watch of a small child.

* * *

**A/N- **Okay, so lots of OCness, but I like writing little kids. He's kinda like a mix of me, my little sister, and my cousin. All female, but I was a tomboy, so... Besides, all the cool CSIs get to work with kids at some point or another, I decided it was Greg's turn. And Catherine's, but she's got Linds... Whatever. Review, please?  



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